FicWad

He grits his teeth loving the feeling of her around him. She reaches back clawing his thigh, her other hand beneath them and between her legs, fondling his balls. Every so often she reaches further pressing her forefinger into his susceptible perinea. He releases her hips to wrap a hand in her hair. His left hand manipulates her torso, bringing her up from the bed and against his chest. Goku is enamored with her breasts; soon his left hand holds the weight of that succulent boon. No female has a body quite as feminine as hers, so voluptuous are her curves. She pushes again and a huff slips passed his mouth and resounds helplessly, an uninvited pathetic grunt. She takes his humanity sometimes.
“I- I can’t,” he could not stop thrusting his hips forward, upward into her heated flesh, “I can’t cum in you, he’ll smell it!” She all but snarls and shoves her pelvis down, hips undulating. Goku hisses. His brow knitting in distress to contain his passion, whining now, “I know he- Oh Kami save us…” a sharp intake of breath, his lips moving as the mouth of a fish would. Open, close, open, close, unutterable words on dead air, open, close, open…
Bulma turns her head to face him, her right hand from his buttocks moves to the back of his neck. Nails digging into flesh, lips curling, tongue darting out to taste his sweat. She bites his lower lip, sucking in the tender rim. He moans loudly, breathing erratically. Her cerium eyes entrance him; his chest swells and his thoughts are light, floating, and trivial…
“Fuck me.”
Barely a whisper and his vision is blanched.

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He watches her from his bed at the Son household; she lies at the foot, splayed over the rumpled sheets. It was only the second time they had had sex at his home. The other times were innumerable, varying in location and often just as gratifying. He had to catch his own breath, she always wanted more especially after she came. “Just one more for me, please, I want you to give me one more,” those words came from the temptress’ mouth, more always more. He was happy to oblige her desperate desire for physical pleasure. He was the antidote to her sickness of lewd necessity.
He loves her, the way he was supposed to love her and just more than is compulsory. She had opened him to the mainstream world, the martial arts counterculture, and erotic diversion. She exemplifies his womanly foil, she helped him become Goku. No one is better for you than the individual that can make you do something you already knew you were capable of accomplishing. It would be easier to start from the beginning, but his mind was racing with the scorched blood in his veins. She sat up and gave him her signature smile, so enigmatic.
He never asked her, he knew his place.

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Bulma coyly retained her clothing, Vegeta was training and she would have plenty of time to shower. Leisurely dragging her panties over her legs she realized they were completely intact, something in which Vegeta was never proficient. Even with Goku, she thought about her bad boy constantly. It was a strange situation; Bulma would not reveal the inner turmoil of her love life to Goku. He undoubtedly would keep their arrangement as it is; he is a peculiar creature immune to social norms especially when associated with his own self benefit. Maybe that is why she needs his lust; he is unusual if not a 'bad boy.'
“Beauiful,” she looked up and into his pleading eyes, curious for only a moment she disregarded his furtive pet name.
She yawned donning her sun dress, “Take me home?”
It was a sincere question and in which Goku read nothing but friendship. He inhaled deeply though his chest was caving in, he nodded. She extended to him his boxers. He hesitated. Grasping them firmly, his forefinger slid over her thumb and she readily let go of the garment. Goku had always acted differently with her, alone at least. She shrugged off his disposition to cuddling, he probably thought girls needed that after sex or Chichi demanded the chauvinistic behavior for male domination. Goku was strong and independent, which is why she trusted her dealings with him and why she hated his ill sought challenge to cage her.
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Goku hadn’t had sex with Chichi in seven months. They only had had sex a handful of times for the purpose of conceiving in their years of marriage. He never relished in his sex with Chichi as he did with Bulma. Bulma made it extracurricular, a part of his training that gave him an edge. Bulma honed his senses, he attempted to focus and memorize every aspect surrounding their carnal endeavors. He held back his transfiguration until the final moments when he ascended to the climactic level of maximum awareness and bliss. She was his force, reason for his radical change into Super Saiyan. Now Vegeta could equally ravage that gift, spoiling a part of Goku’s complex relationship with her.
He couldn’t cum inside her anymore; Vegeta made that an assurance. Their affair had to remain clandestine for each other’s sake, not to mention Gohan’s… and future Trunks who has yet to be conceived. He could not envelop himself in her beauty for much longer. He just could not indefinitely decide to stop now, there was always tomorrow. He had attempted many years earlier to give Bulma his child, they were never – HE was never successful and assumed that that was partly Bulma’s initiative. She was destined to have Vegeta’s baby, he supposed.
“To hell with Vegeta…” he mumbled and she gave him a concerned glance, her human hearing unable to register the exact wording. He put his hand behind his head and smiled as was his usual defense against Bulma.
He had cum in her this time and no matter how much she washed today there was a larger chance of his scent remaining inside her, Vegeta would know. It was a sick plot to send Bulma careening back into his single embrace but at the moment he felt little remorse. He would not tell her he had ejaculated in her womb. On another lucky chance, maybe he had finally gotten her pregnant. All of these selfish thoughts battered behind shy eyes.
“I am ready; I’ll just use my instant transmission.”
“In your underwear, Goku!” was her beginning objection as he pressed himself against her, odds being that to be the last time he would indulge in her ethereal and ideal presence. Kami forbid this be their last copulation.
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Bulma showered thoroughly, using an exfoliating scrub and lotion soup with tea tree oil and aloe extracts. Her pussy lips were swollen as she gently applied the clear antibacterial cleanser. Had he cum in her? Goku had always been so considerate she doubted that he would this time, what being the difference, ya' know? Smoothing away any inconsistencies in her complexion she soothed the aching in her lower belly, cramps probably menstrual. Goku’s dick always got the best of her physical limitations and she was absolutely selfish constantly wanting more, more orgasms; rack ‘em up.
Stepping out of the shower, the bathroom seemed a sauna. “Phew,” she whipped a hand across her forehead and looked for the nearest towel, there were none. Sighing she exited the room, leaving the door open to elevate the suffocating steam. Traipsing around her room, her dripping body made its way to the linen closet. Retrieving a fluffy golden wrap, she smiled at the refreshing feel of the material about her body and wished to fall madly into the large arms of her lover.
“What’s that smell, woman.”
Spinning around, her eyes shot open shocked and annoyed to see Vegeta. Pulling the towel more tightly around her chest she glowered, “What is it you need?”
He stands tall for his stature, arms crossed over his chest and feet planted to the spot. His eyes are darker with rage, “I smell him on you, you showered and I smell that third class Saiyan on you.”
Her visage was unfazed, a cocked eyebrow and her hands clasped at her breasts “Are you referring to my best friend Goku?”
He growled at her insolence enraged with what he considered a betrayal, “He mated you.”
“He is married, and I am his friend.”
Vegeta advanced on her dropping to his knees; he pushed his nose into the manicured apex of her thighs. Taking a moment, he rose and peered vehemently into her eyes, “He. Mated. You.”
“I was using birth control and I have a diaphragm, I am not pregnant.”
Vegeta’s menace grew as he shot venomous slurs of an ancient tongue; he knew she was not pregnant… yet. Bulma walked passed him, drying herself off. She did not think he would come in so early, c’est la vie. Ignoring his audacious and raucous remarks regarding Goku, she brushed her hair and flossed her teeth. By the time she was gargling her mouthwash, Vegeta was drained of invective. She applied her deodorant and jasmine perfume that never failed in giving Goku an erection. She couldn’t remember why, would have to ask him about that-
“Woman! You do not know that damages you cause, but I cannot allow this miscarriage of justice to continue! You end this sad affair or I will not continue…”
She looked up at him from her vanity, eyeliner in hand, “Continue what exactly?”
His eye narrowed, “I do not care for any specifics, simply stop fucking that peon.”
Bulma giggled wantonly, “You bend to that peon.”
Vegeta damned that smile of hers, he snatched a handful of her hair lifting her from the seat and fuming, “He will never have my mate for his enjoyment, and your pleasures belong to me.”
Her eyes cringed, lips peeling over teeth as she reached up to alleviate the discomfort, “I allow you those pleasures and can easily take them away, do not make me do that Vegeta.” He dropped her to the ground leaving her exasperated with an irritated scalp and scraped knee.
“Finish it. I will no longer compete with him on these terms.” He knelt next to her fingering the blue strands gingerly.
She smiled at him, again enigmatic, Vegeta hated her mystery. He would take her before the hour passed. He would assert his claim and though she had belonged to Goku, Vegeta had imperialistically taken that treasure. Whatever value Goku amassed with Bulma would now be in his possession. Goku’s secret of the Super Saiyan had to be held somewhere in the connection with this earthling. Was it all sexual liaison? Vegeta certainly sensed Goku’s feelings and he reveled in the fact that he had manipulated Bulma to his side, hoping to leave Goku a pile of sniveling unrequited love.
Nibbling at her ear, dexterous fingers nimbly ran over her back relaxing earlier knots. Bulma’s body went lax into his, her forehead on his shoulder. Vegeta nipped at her neck lightly licking a path from hairline to shoulder, another finger tracing the arch of her clavicle bone. Bulma was a distinct woman, frail but undeniable. Third Class Scum greasing his pudgy fingers on this porcelain perfection infuriated the Prince. So many women these two Saiyans have seen and taken, yet Bulma… a divine figure, uniquely uncomplicated by war and tragedy captivated their attention and quelled their egos. Bulma transcended death and fear of death; she was what earthlings call hope incarnate.
Vegeta soon became intoxicated and lavished her skin with nips and kisses traditional only to Earthlings. Saiyan acts of sexual prowess followed with erogenous zone tweaking, Vegeta passed his thumbs over her nipples and tickled beneath the abundant mounds. Laying her flat, His mouth found her hip as his fingers ventured for her foot. Massaging her Achilles tendon and kissing her instep Vegeta prepared her body for intercourse, the human body had many similarities to the Saiyan anatomy and with the right coaxing he could have his victory. This time was going to be different. This time was going to have a lasting effect.
Bulma sighed, eyes lazily closed complacent even haughty of the fact that her image was desirable to two Saiyans. Vegeta’s hands moved further down her leg, teasing her calf, his lips blew light air down her inner thigh and his hand reached to her entrance. Still pouting and red, Vegeta’s temper flared but he maintained his control for the mission. Kneading the Achilles tendon more ravenously, he knew she didn’t suspect a thing. Vegeta inserted his pointer finger inside her as to exact pleasure and dispose of her diaphragm. Vegeta could thank Goku for getting the seductress started, she was well fertile.
Vegeta took his time romancing her body and ensuring his success. As his penis penetrated her, he noticed she still felt as tight as before, the woman had muscles where it counted for her kind. He lost himself in the fluidity of her body and the sweet mews coming from her lips. Bulma always speaks so softly and beguilingly to him.
“Please, Prince.”
The bitch knew every button to press for Vegeta to want her more but he abstained from making a sound as she blazingly clutched his shoulders, her delicate body fit nicely to his small physique. This was her game, to make him feel more masculine to give him a boost of confidence. Bulma was playing Vegeta like a violin, telling him he was sex machine and animalistic lover all while maintaining his royal status. He knew this but in the end that was how he wanted her this time, beneath him with legs over his shoulders. He had a determination to aim directly for the womb and he knew the best distraction to accomplish that.
She cooed and affectionately tugged at his neck, “I beg you Prince, please Vegeta.”
Kami, she was self-centered but accommodating all the same, he would deliver her toe curling climax in exchange for his implanted seed. Vegeta held her legs together with one hand at her ankles and pushed them forward closer to her head. She was close to her pinnacle, but he would accept no less than three. His cock slammed into her unabashed and Bulma pinched her own nipple, her other hand pushing away from the offending wall.
“Oh, Vegeta,” marked the initial orgasm.
So hushed, he was infuriated, “Who gives you everything?” it was a command, “Who makes you swoon with ecstasy?” Vegeta was almost screaming now. Bulma just moaned in response with lidded but coherent eyes, that paradoxical stare. “Who am I? Who fucks you mad?” That was definitely shouting.
Bulma rubbed her breasts together, flicking her nipples and almost laughing at his fervor. That was when Vegeta came uncontrollably inside her, riding Bulma’s second orgasm. She knew it and smiled again, amused she would ask him for more. He roughly spread her legs and leaned them into the floor, Bulma’s flexibility never failed. It is as if Kami made her for sexual recreation. He did not wane but slammed his hips into her harder and at a faster pace. She would crash before him this time and hard.


It scarcely mattered that she hadn’t answered his egotistical questions; his masculinity was still whole and a new Ki sparked low in Bulma’s belly. She was made for fucking, those long legs and slender arms, weak wrist but strong ankles, hour glass figure and bodacious chest. That goddess of sex was pregnant and only the smug Vegeta knew for now. At this point Bulma was once again showering and off to a dinner with the Son family. Vegeta chuckled at the bombshell Goku would receive. Vegeta relocated to the bed, from which he received Bulma’s wave of good-bye.
“Finish it woman,” was all that resounded in the late afternoon air.
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“Hey, Gohan! How are you?”
She bent over to genuinely smile and actively listen to him tell her about his studies and training. Bulma loved the kid, a sweetheart like his father with a sharp mind. Gohan would take wonderful care of a lady friend one day; hopefully attempt the monogamy that his father failed. You cannot blame the Saiyan, Goku is immune to social norms or like he once said: Chichi was just a happy mistake. Mistake being the operative word.

Gohan couldn’t contain his recount of meeting a beautiful Indian girl that he may never find again, happen that have been his soul mate. Goku watched their dialogue discreetly, mostly enjoying Bulma’s captivation with Gohan’s innocence. He took great notice of her sigh when Gohan recanted the lost love story. Vegeta is her partner, what Bulma wanted for. What could Goku give her any better than that? Goku was not stuck so badly, just trapped in a decent marriage with an amazing child. His soul mate was at arm’s reach, an intangible reverie.
“Well, let’s eat and we’ll talk more over dinner.”
Chichi was an extremely generous host, serving a whole pig grilled, two oven roasted chickens, stuffing, potatoes au gratin or mashed, corn on or off the cob, sautéed sweet legumes and zucchini with lemon zest, the list was endless. Dinner was a feast where Bulma and Chichi conversed more than ate and the two Saiyans demolished the decadent treats.
“Thank you so much for inviting me, Chichi. I love seeing you guys and Gohan’s becoming so handsome… told me about his run in with the native girl...”
Chichi’s demeanor slipped, “I know, he has quite an affinity for first encounters, probably betting too much on something so trivial.”
“That’s kind of how Goku and I met,” Calling over the mountain of food, “Remember Goku?”
Chichi hmphed, “He’ll never forget, you are the one he wanted to marry. I just thank Kami I used food to lure him in, such a wonderful husband when I can hang on to him.”
Bulma spit the tea back into the cup and coughed obnoxiously, “No, no, no, no, no, no, Chichi he loves you I was just the first to find him. He’s all yours, heart and soul.”
That was when some of the clattering at the table stilled. Chichi looked down into her tea cup lamenting while Goku whipping his mouth stared at Bulma with that same helplessness. Gohan belched to clear the air, so to speak, and the usual robotics of clearing the table was left to Gohan and Bulma. Chichi, for the first time in her life amended her caregiver position in the Son family and vacated to the living room.
“Gohan, do your studies,” Chichi’s last effort as a stable and normal wife that evening.
Bulma’s plump mouth was slightly agape as Chichi left her alone with Goku, something she never did and in all likelihood was a presentation of her resignation. Bulma did not linger to commence cleaning dishes as Gohan scampered to his room. Goku dried the tableware Bulma washed. It seemed strange standing in Chichi’s position, not as unlikeable as she had thought. The two adults were silent, introspective and waiting. Dishes vanish and the sun started to set.
“I enjoy to take walks at sunset but,” Goku looks back to the door Chichi had exited through, “she was never one for adventure, like you.”
He peered down at her with child-like expectation and anxiety. Bulma could only retaliate with a sincere smile of her own, unhindered by sexual innuendo. They took hands and exited the dome shaped house, erroneously intending to return within the hour.


“Today has been a turbulent one.”
Goku snorted as he knew she had made love to Vegeta at least twice. Bulma met his gaze putting Goku in an uncharacteristic standoffish pose. They stopped at a creek two miles away with a large flat rock that could support them both. She positioned him in front of her as she slumped onto the cool stone. They stayed like that for ten minutes, sizing up the other and brooding about personal investments. It all seemed a monotonous egocentric cry for interest, what was this they shared for so long?
Goku was the first to speak, “Funny how you traded out your desert bandit after a few years for a sadistic prince of MY extinct race, did not see that one coming.” They both laughed at his trail off.
“We weren’t doing then what we do now.”
Goku chuckled, “Then what do you call that hand job at Roshi’s house?”
Her eyes narrowed, “How about you feeling up my breasts the first night I met you and offered you shelter?”
He smiled again, “You gave me free peaks if you could sexually dissect me.” That’s when Goku’s face fell, “Remember our first time.”
Bulma nodded, “Sorry that I was on top.”
Goku only shook his head, “I was trembling so badly, and my stomach was in my throat. Beautiful, you were amazing, after that night I have never feared anything again.”
The cerium haired scientist stared on at the oversized boy, “I had been nervous too but then I saw you waiting for me and I knew that nothing bad was ever going to happen as long as you were skulking around,” he did not falter in his reminiscence.
His face downcast, she saw a sideways grin, “It was in the hammock while Roshi and Krillin were out getting more exercise videos and tortoise was asleep in dining room.”
“I loved the sea air breezing beneath my skirt and the pink on both our cheeks, I had the condom-”
“That took you decades to figure out!” Both were laughing and now Goku openly engaged.
“Not fair Goku; you are the one who tried to eat it, that was your answer to everything in those days.”
“I did taste you before we had sex the first time; you are bittersweet almost like an actual sweet potato but with cinnamon, no sugar or butter, just the spice. I love your taste, and you still smell like the flowers you used to tease me during my first blow job.”
Bulma laughed, “I couldn’t remember why you always liked that smell.”
“Only when it’s on your body, I just remember the first time you blew on my hip slowly tracing your tongue around my balls, sucking them into your mouth and jerking me in that wonderful way.” He was getting hard in front of her, stroking himself through the front of his Gi. Bulma bit her bottom lip, that would have to wait and she had already had two mind blowing Saiyan sex sessions for the day.
“Kami, Goku we haven’t spoken this much in ages.”
Their conversation trailed off, eyes remaining locked. It had been years, so many experiences. Was Gohan right; is it a Saiyan thing that the first girl you mutually accept as a companion became your soul mate? Bulma had loved Yamache at one point, well sort of, Goku always superseded that relationship. Yamache was the goal but Goku was already there and giving Bulma her every desire: adventure, freedom, fun, uncomplicated bonding. Only with the years has the connection between Bulma and Goku become so twisted.
“Wait,” Bulma, the logical analyst, “Let’s think about this chronologically instead of sentimentally.”
“Why?” Kami Bulma loved Goku, so matter-of-fact, but that revealed the question. Had she always loved Goku and if so what to do with Vegeta? How narcissistic of me, what would Goku do with Chichi and Gohan? Goku practically read her thoughts, something he once prided himself on when pertaining to Bulma.
“Anyway, we met; I was sixteen you were like effing eight? Ne?” Goku shrugged his shoulders not being one for numbers. “You protected my back, I got the Dragon Balls. We met Krillin, wait Yamache came first then Krillin, Master Roshi, and Martial Arts World Games, etc. More mischief and then came Chichi.”
“Fucking wedding is not food, you could have prevented that one but you were convinced you loved Yamache.”
Bulma was taken aback by his candid anger and resentment, “I did think that Yamache and I could have been happy.”
With her arms crossed over her chest Goku countered, “Then who was biting your nipples and fingering you around every corner.”
Bulma turned beet red to her hair and closed her eyes in pitiful shame, “I just never thought anything between us but this,” she unfolds her arms extending them and retracting them, “this difficult thing to describe between us. Ya know?”
Goku did know, he had surprised Chichi on their wedding night and in trying to excite her virtuousness with his sexual virility. Chichi assumed sex was meaningless and played the part of a dead fish. Goku wanted to have a faithful marriage to Chichi but he had been committed to Bulma so long ago. Having sex with Chichi felt more wrong than anything.
“Hey,” a sudden thought burst onto the forefront of Bulma’s mind, “How could you ride Nimbus?”
“Being pure of heart has nothing to do with virginity, but everything to do with self honesty.” All these years Bulma had been lying to herself about what? There was only one way to find out.
“Call Nimbus.”
Without a second thought or asking what she was trying to prove Goku let an ancient whistle tear through the night. Nimbus abruptly appeared as bright as ever.
“It is going to be dark soon Bulma, please figure out what you have to before then. It gets dangerous out here.”
Bulma nodded and motioned for him to get on, Goku did so simply. Nimbus allowed his admittance; it was Bulma’s turn to try. The first time she fell through, second time as well, but the third time Nimbus had her beside her lover. Goku remained silent, he knew his place and he knew Bulma’s requirements. If the silence could grant him the grace of being with her, he would chew out his own tongue. Bulma peered over at him, a single tear in her eye and he knew she had found her answer. He remained silent still but raised a hand to caress her cheek and slip behind to cradle her head. Moving slowly, Goku brought their lips together in a chaste kiss, only the second of their lives.
Her first idea was that she had never needed anyone and was independent without remorse, which failed miserably. The second was that Vegeta answered her naive prayer for a spouse and that their arrogant union could work, wrong again. After that second time, from the ground she looked up into Goku’s smiling face and she knew she had always loved him for better or worse. A cool breeze washed over her as she rose to take her place on that cloud next to him. Their first chaste kiss had been a week after they met, in a jasmine grove.
Bulma pulled first, jumping off the cloud, “Goku I do not love you and will never be with you.”
He followed her down and taking her hand pressed a kiss on her weak wrist, “I accept your affection wholeheartedly and wish you fortune with Vegeta and your new baby.”
It had to be said, Goku was not angry, a bit envious of Vegeta and yet he always knew he and Bulma would travel an especially contorted path. They knew where their hearts and bodies belonged, but for now for the sake of the world and Son house as well as the Briefs family they would be apart. They began heading home Bulma enraptured with the fact she was pregnant; a child was growing in her womb and would love her as unconditionally as Goku. She looked at him not wanting to know who the father was; Goku told her it would be best to raise it as Vegeta’s. Sighing Goku treaded lightly over the brush thinking of the night ahead with Chichi.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, his chest mashed in and stomach below his guts, “I have to see you and-“
Bulma grabbed him unexpectedly by the face and forced her mouth passionately against his. They wrestled with internal brooding and physical petting. Somehow they stopped against a tree, Bulma climbing up Goku’s chest tracing her lips over his jaw and chin. Goku wrapped his arms around her, hands cupping her ass firmly. They drank from one another, empirically intoxicated with each other. They were hopelessly locked together in ardor. Their zeal was broken only by the pitch blackness of the wilderness night.
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Goku used his instant transmission to take Bulma home and return himself. Chichi laid facing away from him in bed; he could smell her tears but was not in a cooperative mood and slipped under the covers with indifference. Of course she cried harder but she knew he was always going to be her husband and Gahan’s father, why all the tears? She said it herself, I married a devoted lover. There were only three people at the time who knew what that meant.
Chichi rolled over, “Fuck me, like you did her today, just fuck me.”
The request was heart wrenching and a bit insulting; he took her offer under three conditions. She would have to wear her hair loose and keep her bra on to ensure her breasts were firmer. Chichi hated these excuses for her own sexual pleasure but amended her pride to have the best sex Goku has ever given her. He began to go down on her, hating the taste so much more astringent, like an onion or vinegar. He did this for her in spite of his disgust and reminded her of the third command to stay quiet.
“Get on top of me and turn around.” She was obedient, to a fault. Bulma was never this compliant, she always wanted to intervene herself and they never told each other how to go about it, they just knew what each other wanted. “Suck me first.” Chichi did not go near his balls or even to his hips, she bobbed most unenthusiastically and just with her incapable mouth. “Good enough get on top, ride me.”
Chichi looked beyond livid but understandings had been reached and Goku was only willing to compromise this much. At first she got on, and from the length of time she hadn’t been having sex her pussy was ridiculously tight. He helped her adjust, holding her hips steady and telling her to lean forward, she could grab his ankles if she would like. Finally creating rhythm Goku ignored her small behind and more masculine figure. He focused on the shifting tresses stiffer than Bulma’s, and reached up to grab a breast. Alert only to his own satisfaction, he recreated his afternoon with Bulma obtaining as much pleasure as could from the situation.
When they were finished, Goku showered and took his blanket and pillow downstairs. It seemed this would be the price of youthful indiscretions. Chichi was happy, fully sated with two big ones and a hum in her uterus. Goku had never made love or let’s just say, had sex with her like that before. Maybe it wasn’t so bad he was not hers, she could borrow him and best of all Gohan was hers. The last laugh for mothers.

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Bulma was left in her bedroom with a daisy from her amour. Not intrigued to find Vegeta lounging in her bed, Bulma hung the flower to dry. Vegeta sent a Ki orb and incinerated the plant. Bulma didn’t think twice, just sighed and stripped naked.
“You finished it,” she nodded, “and did you fuck him again?” she looked up to see his eyes as hollow as his voice, she nodded. “Busy day for Bulma Briefs or may I call you Beautiful.”
She did not let it pervade her modesty, that’s why she started their relationship, for the fire. “Whatever you want Monkey Boy.”
In a flash he had her nude form on the bed, “Do not disrespect me woman.”
“I am in a compromised condition if you’re remembering you put me there.” He smirked
“As I recall we both thoroughly enjoyed the process.”
She just tumbled in his arms, and smiled her enigmatic smile. He had lost. He was not going to give in; the third class Saiyan was now impotent without the minx who carried his child. Vegeta lost but he would not surrender. He delved into Bulma’s mouth, tasting him on her and relishing the flavor of conflict. She was his to use and enjoy until Kami tear the universe asunder. Bulma always did like a bad boy, Goku will have to wait till Heaven.